


On Our Way

by leporidae



Series: Mending Blue [4]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bonding, Gen, M/M, Plans For The Future, Post-War, Reflection, Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:33:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27069442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leporidae/pseuds/leporidae
Summary: When Dedue thinks of Ashe, he always pictures him smiling.Not likethis,with anguish worrying his brow and distorting his benevolent features. Not with eyes glassy as the water at which they had been staring, bottom lip trembling like the ripples across its surface.“I just —” Ashe swallows. “I don’t know what I’m here for, Dedue. I just don’t know.”
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro
Series: Mending Blue [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1457254
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	On Our Way

**Author's Note:**

> My Ashe/Dedue fic for the [Ashe zine](https://twitter.com/ViolaZine) a while back. I meant to post this a lot sooner, and as I'm doing it now I realize I'm (unintentionally) posting it on Ashe's birthday, so that works out I guess. Happy birthday you sweet bean. You really deserve the world 💜
> 
> Despite being written for a zine and being its own contained story, I had my own verse in mind when I was writing it, so I'm adding it to my general Blue Lions series. But it's also a standalone so the other parts don't matter for this one at all.

Five years ago, alongside Catherine and the Knights of Seiros. the Blue Lions class and their professor had quelled the rebellion incited by Ashe’s adoptive father, Lonato.  _ Quelled  _ — such a clinical term for the destruction they had wrought upon innocent people. But it wouldn’t look good for the Church of Seiros to have words like  _ slaughter _ and  _ annihilation _ in their official reports.

The people of Duscur had been  _ quelled _ too, fleeing citizens labeled rampaging monsters to soften the Kingdom’s guilt of ending what were undeniably innocent human lives. After losing his entire family to such meaningless conflict, Dedue had retreated behind the comfortable mask of stoicism, turning a deaf ear to the prejudiced taunts slung at him with venom. In the face of such loss, he believed it to be the only way he could keep his head afloat; wouldn’t anyone choose to retreat into the safety of their own mind after their loved ones had been wrenched away from them?

At least, that was what Dedue had believed before meeting Ashe.

When Dedue thinks of Ashe, he always pictures him smiling. Even after Lonato’s death, Ashe had gone out of his way to maintain a positive outlook and talk to his classmates as though everything was the same, providing encouragement in whatever ways he knew how. In the back of his mind Dedue had often wondered whether Ashe was receiving the same kindness and support from anyone in return, but back then he had decided it wasn’t his place to ask. And when the war against the Empire commenced, there had been no  _ time _ to ask.

Now the Empire too has been  _ quelled. _

The Kingdom’s army celebrates their victory at Garreg Mach per Dimitri’s request. Perhaps it’s nostalgic for him, or perhaps Dimitri means to begin this new chapter of his life from the same starting point, a neat and circular closure for a man who rarely experiences such tidy endings. Regardless of the reason, Dedue is of course willing to assist with Dimitri’s festivities any way he can. 

He retreats to the kitchen where he finds Ashe assisting the staff as well, and the two cook together much like they had back at school, exchanging pleasantries and expressing their continued surprise that both of them have survived the ordeal of war. For hours on end they chop vegetables, listen to the sizzling of oil and feel the warmth of the fires lapping nearby their hands as they work. Ashe is both industrious and personable, smiling at every soldier as he loads their plate. On the surface, everything seems better than it ever has been.

Yet Dedue cannot shake the nagging sense that something is wrong.

After dinner, as the now-former army shares pastries baked by Annette and Mercedes, Ashe ducks away from the celebration and escapes the dining hall. Amidst the chaos of Sylvain’s drunken blathering and Ingrid’s incensed shouting, it’s no wonder no one else seems to notice Ashe’s quiet exit. But Dedue is not mediating the conflict, and he certainly is not drunk. 

Dedue notices.

_ I should be keeping an eye on His Majesty, _ Dedue thinks to himself. Even after the war has ended, years of instinct have trained him to focus on Dimitri above everyone else — above Ashe, and certainly above himself. The thought makes him sigh. If Dimitri, a man who rose from the ashes at his lowest point, can start a new chapter of his life, so too can he. 

He steps away from his liege and into the chill of night. The thrum of festivities grows fainter as Dedue heads further from the dining hall; there’s something almost lonely about the muffled blend of voices gradually fading away to be replaced with the rustling of leaves tousled by a faint breeze. Even after all this time, after all the years he had known and fought alongside his friends from Faerghus, there are times such as this where Dedue still feels very much an outsider.

Dedue finds Ashe staring out at the lake, expression guarded and arms hanging limply by his sides. “Hello, Ashe.”

He turns to face Dedue, a polite but unconvincing smile crinkling his freckled cheeks. “Ah, Dedue. It certainly was noisy in there. Did you come to get some peace and quiet, too? Or maybe —” He gestures to the greenhouse. “To tend to your plants?”

“Yes, it was rather noisy,” Dedue says carefully. “However, I did not come for the plants. I couldn’t help but notice you seem a bit —”  _ Upset, perhaps? Listless? _ “Thoughtful about something,” he decides to say instead. “If there’s anything you wish to get off your chest, I would be more than willing to listen — though I am afraid I may not be able to offer much in return.”

“That’s all right, Dedue,” Ashe says levelly. Now more than ever, Dedue thinks, Ashe’s manner is an echo of Dimitri’s, negative emotions boiling just below the surface of a careful facade. “I wouldn’t want to bother you with everything else that’s going on. We only just defeated the Empire, and there’s so much restoration left to do.” His bottom lip trembles; if Dedue hadn’t grown accustomed to sensing the near-imperceptible cracks in his own liege’s mask, he may never have noticed. “I’ll do my best to help, so don’t worry.”

Dedue considers this. He could take Ashe’s words at face value and leave, but the thought doesn’t sit right. “I believe neither of us are needed elsewhere currently,” he says after a pause. “Speaking with me would not be a bother at all.”

He bites his lip, staring out at the rippling water with darkened eyes. Dedue is certain he will refuse — surely Ashe craves the support of someone warm and approachable, not  _ him _ — and then he coughs once, turning to face Dedue with fists clenched by his sides.

When Dedue thinks of Ashe, he always pictures him smiling.

Not like _ this,  _ with anguish worrying his brow and distorting his benevolent features. Not with eyes glassy as the water at which they had been staring, bottom lip trembling like the ripples across its surface.

“I just —” Ashe swallows. “I don’t know what I’m here for, Dedue. I just don’t know.”

“Here?” Dedue repeats cautiously. “At Garreg Mach, after fighting to resist the Empire?”

He shakes his head. “No — well, I guess that too. I mean I — I don’t know why I’m here in  _ general.  _ I don’t know who I’m supposed to be helping, what purpose I can serve that only I can do. Ah — but this line of thought isn’t productive. I know that. You serve His Majesty with all your heart. I just — I just need to find someone for whom I can do the same.”

“That’s not true,” Dedue says, the words for once falls from his lips before he has a chance to deliberate upon them. “It can be… a bit precarious, to dedicate one’s life to another so staunchly. For years I believed His Majesty to be dead. My reason for living had all but been wrenched from under me, and I felt dangerously lost. Now that we have won the war, he will have the Kingdom court and advisors by his side. My place as his vassal is no longer quite as valuable, so I too have been evaluating my future.”

“I think you’re underselling yourself, Dedue,” Ashe insists. “The war may be over, and we’re not fighting as soldiers, but — surely His Majesty still values you as his treasured friend.”

Dedue chuckles bemusedly. “Perhaps you should take your own advice to heart.”

“H-huh?”

He sighs. “If you believe that I, a man from Duscur, have value outside the confines of war, surely you can spare a bit of that kindness towards yourself.” The water stretched before them shines undisturbed as glass. “You too are an irreplaceable friend, Ashe.”

Ashe remains still, and Dedue fears he’s overstepped somehow. Then his shoulders droop with a sniffle. “The war was terrible.” Ashe shivers. “So much needless suffering. And yet… I can’t help but feel grateful I met you all. That I was part of your class, and fought by your side. It sounds dreadfully selfish of me to say such things, doesn’t it?”

_ Selfish.  _ That’s the last word Dedue would ever use to describe the man before him, the man who constantly looks out for others and forces a smile even in the worst of times to shine light on situations that seemed hopeless. “Optimistic, perhaps. But not selfish. To an extent I understand how you feel.” 

How long had it been since Dedue had been able to say those words honestly to anyone? Yet Ashe’s sentiment — yearning towards a better future, while simultaneously overcome by the fear of what that future may hold — rings true in his own heart. 

“You do?” Ashe says, timidly.

“The Tragedy of Duscur took everything I knew. Not a day goes by where I do not —” Dedue hesitates before admitting, “miss my family. At least to some extent. And I wonder, childishly, how my life would be had the Tragedy not occurred.”

Ashe nods. “I wonder the same,” he murmurs. “Sometimes I… I still can’t quite believe Lonato is gone. He did so much for me, and then — in an instant —” He closes his eyes, taking a deep and shuddering breath.

“There have been days where even I doubt any of this has been worth it,” Dedue says. “But even so, from the outcome of that event I met His Majesty and the rest of the Blue Lions.” He smiles. “And I was able to cook with you, Ashe. That is an experience I would never give up, even if I had the power to turn back time.”

Ashe’s lower lip wobbles. “Y-you really mean that?” 

He sounds so vulnerable and young in a way Dedue has rarely heard from him. “Of course.” It hits him then that he has talked for an uncharacteristically long period of time; perhaps it is due to Ashe’s personality, somehow naturally calming, that Dedue too can drop his guard. 

“I’m glad we met,” Ashe whispers.

Before Dedue notices him moving closer, a pair of shaking arms have wrapped around his waist as Ashe buries his face into his chest. He continues to tremble even as Dedue returns the gesture, holding Ashe against him quiet but steadfast.

For a while, the only audible sound is the soft splash of a fish in the nearby water.

Ashe steps back to look up at him, eyes shimmering with tears even as his lips wobble into a crooked smile. “Dedue?”

“Yes?”

“Once everything has died down, and if you’re up for it… let’s cook some more together, okay?”

In that moment, an invisible weight lifts from Dedue’s heart, freed by the magic of Ashe’s gentle words and hopeful brilliance, still shining strong despite everything.

He smiles. “Of course.”


End file.
